Sweetened Poison
by KJaneway115
Summary: What if using the Voyager crew to find the wormhole wasn't the last of Kashyk's deceptions?  This story takes place immediately following the season 5 episode Counterpoint.
1. Chapter 1

SWEETENED POISON

_"I would much prefer to suffer from the clean incision of an honest lancet than from a sweetened poison."_

_-Mark Twain_

Kathryn Janeway sat alone on the bridge, the strains of Mahler's fifth symphony still playing over the ship's speakers. She felt quiet. She was not astonished by the events of the past few days. Kashyk was right about one thing; she had never come to fully trust him. She had known that she could not afford to put the safety of her ship and her crew into the hands of a stranger. She had wanted to trust him, though. She had wanted to believe that there was another person out there with a mind like her own, who was willing to stand by what he believed; someone for whom she could feel an instant passion that she didn't have to hide. The kiss in the docking bay had not been an act. At least, she knew that it had not been an act for her. She felt betrayed and used, but she would not allow herself to acknowledge those feelings now. A cold anger rose from the pit of her stomach; she ignored it. She felt the sting that she had felt the moment she realized that Kashyk had used her all along, but she turned her attention away from the feeling.

The doors from the turbolifts swished open, and Tuvok, Chakotay and Paris entered the bridge. "Computer, end music," she ordered. The symphony abruptly cut off.

"What happened?" asked Paris. "We were all being held in the cargo bays, and then the Devore soldiers lowered all the forcefields and dematerialized."

"The Inspector decided that it would be better to let us go than to have a failure of this kind on his record," Janeway replied. "Mr. Paris, set a course out of Devore space, maximum warp."

"Aye, ma'am," said Paris, hurrying to his station. "Course laid in."

"Engage." The ship jumped to warp underneath them.

Ensign Kim and Seven of Nine entered the bridge and took their stations. Tuvok was at his, and Chakotay came to sit down beside the Captain. She felt his eyes on her but she did not look at him.

"Status report," she ordered.

"All decks are reporting in," said Tuvok calmly. "We appear to have suffered no permanent damage from the Devore inspection. Two crew members suffered minor injuries at the hands of the Devore inspection team. The Doctor is treating them in sickbay."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said the Captain. "I'll be in my ready room. Please inform me when we reach the rendezvous point with the shuttlecraft." She knew this would take many hours even at maximum warp, but she wanted to get out of Devore space as soon as possible. She stood and exited the bridge, into the solace of her ready room. She sat down at her desk and lowered her head into her hands.

_What is one more disappointment?_ she thought. She knew that she would continue just as she always had; that this was not even a setback, just one more incident in the life of a Starfleet captain. Just one more person who could not be trusted. She was tired; for a brief moment, she permitted herself to acknowledge it. She was tired of being the only one who did what was right. They had had months - years even - without a true ally or friend, without an alien race who would genuinely welcome them with no strings attached. Was her crew really so unique in the universe that they could not find a single species in the Delta Quadrant with real morals and values? There had been a few along the way, but so few. Too few.

The door to the ready room chimed. "Come in," she said without moving. As the door opened, she raised her head to see who it was. Chakotay or Tuvok, she thought, most likely. It was her first officer.

As Chakotay entered the ready room, he saw Kathryn raise her head from her hands, so that her chin was resting in one hand, her other hand lying on her desk. Her fingers still covered her mouth, so he could only see the expression in her eyes. He had seen this expression before, although not many times. She had been hurt and she was trying not to admit it.

With an effort, she sat up straight, her hands in her lap. "Have a seat, Commander," she said.

He came and sat across from her, handing her a PADD. "Here's a list of the minor damages and injuries caused by the Devore inspection teams," he said. "Tom estimates that it will take us about twelve hours at maximum warp to reach the rendezvous point with the shuttles, but we'll be out of Devore space in about seven hours."

"Thank you, Commander," she replied. "As far as I'm concerned, we can't get out of here soon enough."

"I take it Kashyk betrayed us," Chakotay said.

She nodded. "He was never to be trusted. He had planned to use us to find that wormhole all along." Chakotay nodded, sensing she had more to say. "I had hoped I was wrong about that," she continued.

"So did I," said Chakotay. There was a tone in Kathryn's voice that was somehow tender and bitter at the same time. Chakotay had no idea what had passed between her and Kashyk. He hadn't seen her much since Kashyk had come on board, and he could only guess at what might have transpired between them.

"You know, Chakotay," she said, "I offered to take him with us after we made it through the wormhole."

He raised his eyebrows, studying her. He knew she wouldn't make this offer to just anyone. "I know that you wanted to trust him, Kathryn," he said quietly, "but we did the right thing in being cautious."

We, he had said. We did the right thing. "We did," she agreed, "but I wanted to believe it was possible that someone like Kashyk existed: a brilliant scientist, a courageous leader, someone who was willing to defy convention and stand up for what was right."

"Someone like you."

She looked up at him suddenly when he said this. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I suppose so."

Chakotay felt an anger rising within him. He did not know what had passed between his captain and that man, but he did not need to know. He could see in her eyes and in her manner how much Kashyk had hurt her. He could feel his jaw clench as the anger permeated his body. Yet he knew that his anger would not help her now, and what he wanted more than anything was to help her. "What Kashyk did to us was wrong," he said quietly, with the weight of conviction.

He had said, what Kashyk did to us, but what she heard was, what Kashyk did to you. "He'll never be punished for it," she replied. "He was acting in accordance with his own government."

"He'll have to live with what he's done."

She shook her head, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "He's proud of what he is, Chakotay. That's the sickest part of the whole thing. He thinks that what he's doing is protecting and serving his people." She burned with the humiliation of the knowledge that she allowed herself the weakness of kissing him. How could she have been so stupid?

"Well, in just a few hours, we'll never have to see him or any of his kind again," said Chakotay, trying to lighten the mood.

She made an attempt to smile, but could not. "What I don't understand," she said, "is how a mind like his, capable of the thoughts that he was able to have, could also believe that this is the right way to treat anyone."

He didn't know if she was speaking of the way Kashyk treated the telepathic prisoners, or the way that he had treated her. But he said, "I don't understand that either. I don't think either of us ever will."

She stood up from her desk and began to pace back and forth across the ready room, voicing her thoughts from earlier. "Can't there just be one person, Chakotay, just one race, that stands by its morality? Are we the only ones in the entire galaxy? It seems that every species we meet in the Delta Quadrant is interested only in our destruction... or only in their own survival, even if that means betraying and killing others."

"There were the Talaxians," he offered, "and the Ocampa."

"Yes," she agreed. "There have been a few. But too few, Chakotay. We have no allies here. Whenever we meet a race that might be friendly to us, we have to be suspicious of them. And rather than our suspicions being proven superfluous in the end, they're almost always proven right."

He knew the underlying theme of her speech. "In that sense, we are alone," he acknowledged. "And it's harder to do right when you're alone than when you're supported by a culture or an organization that shares your morals and your values. But I know you, Kathryn Janeway, and no matter how hard it is, you're not going to stop doing what's right."

She had stopped pacing and turned to listen to him. "You're right," she said helplessly. Even though she remained standing erect, her body seemed to sag in defeat.

Chakotay stood and went to the replicator. "Two cups of coffee, black," he ordered. The coffee materialized on the replicator, and he took both cups, handing one to Janeway. She took it gratefully, managing a little smile. The warm cup in her hands seemed to give her strength. Chakotay put his hand on her shoulder and led her to sit next to him on the couch.

She sat back on the couch, cradling the coffee in her hands, and lifting it to her face to inhale its sweet aroma. She closed her eyes as she did so, feeling the warmth of Chakotay's hand still resting on her shoulder. Rather than relying on her strength, though, it seemed to give her support. "I'll be fine, tomorrow, Chakotay," she said.

He smiled. "I know," he replied. "You're always 'fine.'"

She opened her eyes and looked at him, at first with a dubious expression, but then, seeing the smile on his face, she chuckled, and he laughed with her. She raised the coffee to her lips and took a sip. As soon as she swallowed the warm, brown liquid, he could tell something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked.

"Does the coffee taste strange to you?" she asked. She smelled it again, and it smelled normal.

He picked up his cup and took a sip. "It just tastes like coffee to me," he said.

"I thought it tasted strange somehow," she said, picking up her cup and taking another sip.

"I can replicate you a new cup," he offered.

She was about to agree when she discovered she was struggling to breathe. "Chak... o... tay... Can't... breathe..." she managed to get out, gasping.

"Chakotay to sickbay," he said, tapping his comm badge urgently. "Medical emergency in the Captain's ready room. I'm going to beam her directly to sickbay."

"Aye, Commander," replied the Doctor.

"Chakotay to transporter room, transport the Captain directly to sickbay."

"Aye, Commander," returned the voice of the ensign on duty.

The Captain dematerialized in front of him, and Chakotay hurried out of the ready room. "You have the bridge, Lieutenant Tuvok," he barked. "I'll be in sickbay."

"Is there a problem, Commander?" Tuvok asked.

"Something's wrong with the Captain," he replied. "I'll let you know as soon as I know more." With that, he dashed into the turbolift and ordered it to take him directly to deck 5.

...

The Doctor had no idea what to expect when Captain Janeway was beamed into sickbay, but she materialized doubled over, struggling for breath. She seemed to be having some kind of seizure. The Doctor managed to get her to a biobed and scanned her quickly. She was convulsing and her lips were beginning to turn blue. He grabbed a hypospray and injected the Captain, hoping this would help clear her airways. She began to breathe a bit more easily, but continued to convulse wildly. "Doctor to Lieutenant Paris," he said.

"Paris here."

"Please report to sickbay at once."

"On my way," Paris replied.

At that moment, Commander Chakotay barreled into sickbay. "Doctor, report!" he ordered.

"Help me hold her still, Commander. I need to inject her with a sedative."

Chakotay ran over to the table where the Captain was throwing herself from one side to the other, her entire body shaking. He placed one arm around her shoulders and one around her waist, holding her upper body down long enough for the Doctor to use his hypospray. Chakotay felt her body begin to stop shaking under his arms and he stepped away to give the Doctor room.

Paris hurried into sickbay. "What can I do, Doc?" he asked.

The Doctor was busily scanning the Captain, trying to understand what was happening to her. "Get me the vascular regenerator," he ordered, examining the data on his tricorder. Paris quickly handed him the instrument and he began running it over the Captain's chest.

Chakotay and Paris stood off to the side, waiting. They exchanged a concerned glance. Finally, the Doctor put down his instruments and looked up at them. "Commander, can you tell me exactly what happened?" he asked.

"We were in the Captain's ready room. I ordered coffee for both of us from the replicator. She asked me if I thought the coffee tasted strange, but it tasted fine to me. I was about to replicate her another cup when she said she couldn't breathe."

"Strange," said the Doctor, pulling out his medical tricorder once again.

"What's strange, Doc?" asked Paris.

"I would like to run more tests, Commander," said the Doctor, addressing Chakotay, "but my preliminary scans suggest that the Captain was poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Chakotay asked. "By whom?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied.

...

"Poisoned?" exclaimed B'Elanna Torres. The senior staff had gathered in the briefing room. The Doctor joined them remotely from sickbay.

"Yes," he said, his face on the monitor showing a grave expression. "I cannot tell you precisely how the poison was transmitted, but it appears to have been administered through the skin. It was an ingenious effort. The poison was designed to react with coffee specifically, so it would remain dormant in her system until she drank her next cup."

"Doctor, have you been able to formulate an antidote?" asked Chakotay.

"Unfortunately, no," the Doctor replied. "This is a poison unlike any I've ever seen. It's synthesized, not from a natural source."

"So what's going to happen to the Captain?" asked Paris.

"Unless an antidote can be found," the Doctor replied, "she will die."

"How much time do we have?" Chakotay asked.

"The poison seems to be acting very slowly," said the Doctor. "It is slowing down her metabolic functions. Essentially, she is in a coma, but the poison appears to work progressively. Eventually, her metabolic functions will become so slow that she will be brain dead, and then she will stop functioning completely. My best estimate is that we have seven days until this occurs."

"Do you think you'll be able to synthesize an antidote within that time?" Chakotay asked.

"I'll certainly do my best, Commander, but I can't guarantee success. I've never seen some of the compounds in this poison before."

"This leads us to an interesting question," said Tuvok. "Who poisoned the Captain?"

"I don't think it could have been a member of _Voyager_'s crew," said the Doctor. "Where would they have gotten an unknown poison?"

"Doctor," Tuvok replied, "the Captain could have been poisoned by anyone if they obtained the poison from someone outside of this crew." He paused for a moment before continuing. "However, I think it is unlikely that any member of this crew would have a motive for poisoning the Captain."

"Agreed," said Chakotay. "That leaves us with the Brenari..."

"Why would they want to poison Captain Janeway?" asked Neelix. "They would all be in a Devore concentration camp if it weren't for her."

"Perhaps a member of their group had other motives for traveling with us," said Tuvok. "But that also seems like an unlikely possibility."

"Or the Devore," Chakotay finished.

"Why would they want to poison Captain Janeway?" asked Harry Kim. "What would they have to gain from her death?"

"Revenge, perhaps," Tuvok replied. "Inspector Kashyk was humiliated by Captain Janeway. Perhaps he felt this was sufficient motive for murder."

"Or Prax," offered Paris. "He seemed to want nothing more than for us all to be imprisoned and our ship to be impounded."

"Kashyk had the greatest motive," said Chakotay. "And he also had the most opportunity. He spent a great deal of time alone with Captain Janeway."

"If this is a Devore poison," said Neelix, "perhaps they have an antidote."

"Perhaps," Tuvok agreed. "But it would not be prudent to take Voyager back into their space."

"Maybe that's just what they were counting on," B'Elanna said. "They thought they could hurt us even after we left their space, and we'd never want to go back."

"Lieutenant Paris, how far are we from the rendezvous point with the Brenari?" Chakotay asked.

"About two hours," Paris replied.

"Inform me as soon as we reach it," Chakotay ordered. "I want to find out if the Brenari have any information about this poison or how to obtain an antidote. If they don't, we'll have to discuss other options. Doctor, your first priority is finding an antidote."

"I won't rest until I do, Commander," the Doctor said solemnly.

"Good," Chakotay replied. "The rest of you, take your duty stations. We'll reconvene here after our rendezvous with the Brenari."


	2. Chapter 2

"Commander, we're coming up on our shuttle craft," said Tom Paris.

"Hail them."

"We are receiving a response, Commander," replied Ensign Kim.

"On screen."

Kir's face appeared on the view screen. "Commander Chakotay," he said, "we can't thank you enough for all the assistance you have provided us over the past few weeks. If there is anything we can do to repay you, please, tell me."

"Actually, there might be something you can do for us," Chakotay replied. "Our Captain has been poisoned; we think by the Devore. No antidotes in our system will counteract this poison. Do you know anything about it?"

Kir looked immediately concerned. "I am no medical expert, but I have heard of the Devore using many advanced poisons in their relocation camps. Commander, if you follow us to our colony, there may be a physician there who can help you. The colony is only a few lightyears from here."

"Transmit the coordinates to us," Chakotay said.

"Commander, I'm receiving coordinates," said Paris.

"Lay in a course," said Chakotay. As soon as the two shuttles had jumped to warp, he said, "Engage."

The ship jumped to warp and it was less than an hour before they found themselves in orbit around the Brenari colony. After the Brenari had been driven from their home planet by the Devore, they had resettled here. At least, those who managed to escape Devore patrols had resettled. The colony was small, but well organized and beautiful.

When they had all arrived at the colony, the two shuttles docked on Voyager and their passengers beamed down to the surface. Kir invited Chakotay to join them on the surface to discuss the Captain's predicament further. Chakotay, Tuvok and Seven of Nine beamed down to the planet's surface.

Kir and the other refugees were greeted by a large crowd. Apparently, news of their arrival had preceded them. Chakotay saw the refugees greeted by the warm embraces of friends and family members they had not seen for months or years. He wished that he could smile and enjoy their happiness, but he had other things on his mind.

"I know you're anxious to greet your friends and family," said Chakotay quietly to Kir, "and if you'll just take us to your physician friend, we won't bother you any further."

"Commander, I understand how important this is to you," Kir said. "I'll take you to Doctor Jal right away." Then Kir addressed the crowd around them. "Friends," he said loudly, "this is Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Tuvok and Seven of Nine from the starship _Voyager_. They smuggled us through Devore space and we owe them our lives. Please, give them and their crew mates will the best Brenari hospitality."

The crowd murmured in appreciation, and Kir led Chakotay through the crowd. Tuvok and Seven followed. As they passed the crowd of people, Chakotay saw a group of elder Brenari standing off to one side. Kir embraced one of them and they exchanged quiet words. Then Kir returned to Chakotay's side. "This way," he said.

Kir led the away team down a street and to a large, white building. When they entered the building, Chakotay could see it was a medical center of some kind. Kir asked them to wait while he disappeared inside the building. A few moments later, he returned with a tall, redheaded Brenari woman in tow. "Commander Chakotay," said Kir, "this is Doctor Jal." Chakotay and the doctor shook hands. He then introduced her to Tuvok and Seven.

"I hear you have a problem with a Devore poison, Commander," said Doctor Jal. Her voice was soft and mellifluous; her eyes were sharp and observant.

"Yes," replied Chakotay. "Our Captain has been infected."

"I have studied many poisons," said Doctor Jal. "May I see the patient?"

"Certainly," said Chakotay.

"Commander, I'll be remaining on the surface," said Kir. "Please keep me updated on your progress. I hope that Captain Janeway returns to good health in short order."

"Thank you, Kir," said Chakotay. "Voyager, four to beam up."

...

The Doctor waited anxiously for the test results to appear on his screen. A moment later, he grimaced. It was another failed attempt at an antidote for the Captain. She had been unconscious since he had first sedated her, and he felt no closer to finding an antidote now than he had then.

The doors to sickbay opened and Commander Chakotay entered with a tall Brenari woman. "Doctor," he called.

The Doctor emerged from his office. "Hello, Commander," he said gravely.

Chakotay could tell from the Doctor's tone that he didn't have any good news. "Doctor," he said, "this is Doctor Jal, a Brenari expert on poisons."

Jal shook the Doctor's hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Doctor," she said. "I hope that I can help you."

The Doctor got straight to business, showing Jal his scans of the Captain and the composition of the poison. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" he asked her.

"It's definitely Devore in origin," she replied. "I've studied many of the poisons they use in their relocation camps." She paused and added, "We call them death camps. They use many slow acting poisons to prolong the suffering of their detainees. They believe it's a deterrent for others if they see their loved ones suffering and slowly dying over a long period of time." She spoke with mechanical precision, betraying none of her own feelings on the subject.

Chakotay shuddered inwardly. The whole thing sounded far too familiar to him; it was an echo of everything he had fought as a Maquis.

"Have you been able to develop an antidote?" the Doctor asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, no," Jal replied. "The components of the poison are mostly synthesized, but there is one component that is natural, and only found on the Devore home world. It is a Devore plant called hachid." She walked over to the screens overlooking the biobed and gestured to one component of the poison's composition that was displayed there. "Once we escaped from their space, we no longer had access to that component, and were therefor unable to synthesize an antidote."

"I see," said the Doctor.

"Is there any way we could synthesize this hachid with our replicators?" asked Chakotay.

"I doubt it, Commander," Jal replied. "We have very similar technology to your replicators, and we've never been able to create hachid. It's impossible to distinguish it clearly enough from the rest of the components of the poison."

"Perhaps, if we worked together, Doctor Jal, you and I would be able to come up with an antidote that neither of us could produce alone," the Doctor suggested.

The tall Brenari doctor nodded. "It's possible," she said.

"Doctor," Chakotay addressed her, "would you be willing to work with our doctor on an antidote?"

"I would be happy to," Jal replied. "If we can come up with one, it would benefit my people as much as yours."

"Do you know if the Devore have an antidote to the poison?" asked Chakotay.

"I doubt that they have ever bothered to come up with one, since they only use it to infect prisoners they want to kill anyway," Jal replied. This time the bitterness in her voice was evident. "If we could get our hands on some hachid, that would make an antidote much easier to develop."

"I understand," Chakotay replied. He exited sickbay and called for a meeting of the senior staff in the briefing room in one hour. He was beginning to formulate a plan of action, but he needed some time to talk to Kir first.

...

The senior staff had gathered once again in the briefing room. The Doctor along with Doctor Jal appeared on the view screen. The two doctors had just filled everyone in on the discussion that had just taken place in sickbay.

"The Doctor and Doctor Jal will work together to create an antidote for the poison," Commander Chakotay said. "However, they may not be able to create an antidote without having an actual sample of hachid. I am going back to Devore space to retrieve a sample of the plant for them."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the expected objections began. "Commander," said Tuvok, "need I remind you that you are now in command of this vessel, and it is not logical for the commanding officer to lead an away mission?"

"I'm aware of that," Chakotay replied, "but the Captain's not dead yet. I want to make sure it stays that way. Logical or not, I'm going to do this. Our chances of being able to save the Captain's life will increase dramatically if we can get our hands on some of that plant."

"You're not planning on taking _Voyager_ back into Devore space," said Tom. It was a statement with a hint of a question behind it.

"No," Chakotay answered.

Before he could continue, Tom interjected, "The _Delta Flyer_ won't stand a chance against Devore warships."

"I'm not going to be taking the _Delta Flyer_," Chakotay replied.

"Then what ship do you plan to take?" asked Tuvok.

"I've spoken to Kir, and the Brenari have an old Devore shuttle that some of their refugees commandeered and brought here. He's agreed to loan us the shuttle for this mission."

B'Elanna had been silent for the briefing, but she spoke now. "Chakotay, you're not planning to do this alone, are you?"

"Kir has agreed to accompany me," he said. "He knows Devore space better than any of us do, and he knows the way the Devore fleet operates. We'll depart at 0500. Doctor, can you create prosthetics that will make me appear to be Devore?"

The Doctor nodded. "Plastic surgery is just one of my many talents, Commander," he replied.

"Good. Lieutenant Tuvok, as long as the Captain is indisposed, you'll take command of Voyager in my absence. If I do not return within seven days, and if the Doctor is not successful in formulating an antidote, you will become Captain of Voyager. Your orders are to proceed towards the Alpha Quadrant. You are not under any circumstances to return to Devore space looking for me. Is that understood?"

"Aye, Commander," Tuvok replied.

"Dismissed."

As the briefing room emptied out, B'Elanna approached Chakotay. "Be careful," she said softly.

"I will," he said. The two friends exchanged a look that said more than words could express. B'Elanna turned and exited the briefing room, leaving Chakotay standing there, alone, looking at the empty table before him.

...

The doors to sickbay opened, and Commander Chakotay entered. He was wearing civilian clothes. The Doctor and Jal were in the Doctor's office, pouring over test results. The Doctor saw Chakotay enter and left his office.

"How's it coming, Doctor?" Chakotay asked.

"We are making slow progress," the Doctor replied. "I have nothing to report yet."

"That's fine, Doctor," Chakotay answered. "I'm ready for my new face."

"Have a seat, Commander," the Doctor ordered. Chakotay sat down on one of the beds and the Doctor expertly performed the surgery. Less than thirty minutes later, the Doctor held up a mirror in front of Chakotay's face. "You could inspect with the best of them, Commander," the Doctor said dryly.

Chakotay raised his hand to the new ridges on his face. "Not exactly the kind of species I'd be if I could choose," he said. "But excellent work Doctor."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Commander, I'd like to get back to my research with Doctor Jal." Chakotay nodded, and the Doctor returned to his office.

Chakotay walked over to the biobed where Kathryn lay. Her eyes were closed and she looked pale, but her expression was peaceful. He took her limp hand. "I'm going to find an antidote, Kathryn. I promise, I'll bring it back to you. Just hold on a little longer." He closed his eyes, imprinting the memory of her face on his brain, the way her hand felt in his. Then he let go and turned to exit sickbay.

When he beamed down to the surface, Kir was already waiting for him at the Devore shuttle. It looked like the shuttle Kashyk had piloted, except perhaps a little older.

"Nice face," Kir said sardonically, observing Chakotay's Devore appearance.

"Thanks," Chakotay replied, pausing before he continued, "Kir, you don't have to do this. You've given us enough help already."

"You saved a dozen of my people. The least I can do is to help you save one of yours." Kir's demeanor was calm and firm.

Chakotay nodded, allowing himself a small smile. "I'm ready to go," he said. He and Kir entered the shuttle, and Chakotay began to familiarize himself with the shuttle's controls. He suddenly felt like he was back in the Maquis, sneaking into enemy territory to steal from an oppressive race. He didn't miss those days.

"I've set a course for the wormhole," said Kir. "Prepare for takeoff in five... four... three... two..." Kir keyed in the launch sequence and Chakotay piloted the shuttle out of dry dock. "Engage warp drive on my mark," said Kir. "Mark."

They reached the wormhole in less than an hour, and shortly after that, they emerged into Devore space.

"Scanning for inspection vessels," Chakotay said. He pointed to the readout. "Here's one, about eight lightyears from here."

"I'm comparing the readouts with the ones Voyager took from Kashyk's ship. It appears to be the same vessel."

"We just have to get close enough for me to beam aboard," said Chakotay. "Engaging refractive shielding."

"I've plotted a course towards the vessel," said Kir. "Engaging now." The shuttle shot into space.

...

The Doctor had been working nonstop for several days, and Doctor Jal had been with him in sickbay for almost twenty hours, yet they felt like they had made very little progress. "Even if we could just buy ourselves more time," the Doctor was saying, "slow the poison's course a little."

"I know," Jal replied, brushing her long, red hair out of her face. She knew she had to rest soon, but she wanted to feel as though they had made some progress.

"The problem is that the poison has been infused with her blood, making her own blood toxic to her," the Doctor began to reason. "We don't have the essential component of the poison and are therefor unable to discover its antidote. It's almost as if the Devore purposefully added unnecessary ingredients just to make the essential ones impossible to locate."

"What if, instead of trying to counteract the poison itself, we attempt to remove it from her body?" asked Jal.

The Doctor looked at her, puzzled for a moment, but then he began to understand. "You mean a blood transfusion?" he asked, an excitement creeping into his tone.

"Exactly," Jal replied. "What if we attempt to remove her contaminated blood and replace it with clean blood?"

"An excellent idea, Doctor! We may not be able to completely rid her body of the poison, but perhaps we can at least slow down its course."

"What we don't know is if the poison will infect the clean blood as well," Jal pointed out.

"Yes, that could be a problem," said the Doctor. He looked up at Jal. "Doctor Jal," he said, "you've been here for nearly twenty hours. Why don't you rest for a while? I'm sure that Lieutenant Tuvok would be happy to arrange quarters for you on Voyager if you don't wish to return to the colony."

"Thank you, Doctor," Jal replied. "I will go home for a few hours to rest. I will return to Voyager shortly."

"Very well," said the Doctor. He ordered one of the ensigns assigned to sickbay to escort Doctor Jal to the transporter room, and since he didn't need to rest, he returned his energy to the task of figuring out whether a blood transfusion would cure the Captain.

...

"We're coming up on the Devore warship," said Kir. "I'll transport you over there and remain within transporter range for as long as possible." Kir and Chakotay had decided that Chakotay would beam over to the Devore ship alone, since Kir's status as a telepath might make him easier to detect. Now that Chakotay appeared to be Devore, they hoped that he would not be easily recognized. The crew compliment of the Devore warships was quite large, and it was unlikely that a single unknown face would be noticed in the crowd. Back on Voyager, they had synthesized the closest approximation they could to the uniforms worn by the Devore soldiers, and Chakotay wore it now.

Kir glanced back at Chakotay as he stood, ready to transport over to the other ship. "You make a convincing Devore soldier, Commander," he said.

"Let's hope so," Chakotay replied with a smile, crossing his fingers.

"As long as the warship stays within range of that nebula, I'll be within transporter range," Kir explained. "If the ship moves, we'll rendezvous at the appointed time."

Chakotay nodded. He and Kir had worked out their plan based on the location of the Devore ship near a nebula that would hide Kir's shuttle. They did have a backup plan should the warship alter course. First, Kir had to maneuver the shuttle quickly past the warship, transporting Chakotay over to the ship while the shuttle continued its course at a high speed. They hoped that the warship's crew wouldn't think anything of a single Devore shuttle passing by.

"Get ready to transport, Commander," said Kir. He was concentrating heavily on piloting the shuttle and activating the transport at precisely the right moment. For a brief moment, they would have to drop their shields in order to complete the transport. They thought they had found a way to mask the transport from being detected by the warship, if they emitted a stream of tachyon particles at the same time. They hoped their calculations had been correct.

"I'm ready," Chakotay said.

"Good luck," said Kir. His hands flew over the controls as Chakotay dematerialized behind him. As soon as Chakotay was gone, he set a course straight for the nebula, hoping that the crew of the warship hadn't thought much of the shuttle that momentarily passed within their vision.

...

On the bridge of the Devore warship, a young officer called Quall sat at his console. For a moment, he thought he had seen an anomalous reading, but he checked his console again, and the mysterious reading was gone. It must have been my imagination, he thought. He glanced back at Prax, who sat in the command chair at the moment, and decided it was best not to bother him. Prax was not pleasant to deal with when bothered, and since Quall didn't have anything solid to report, he felt it was better to let it remain unmentioned.

...

Chakotay materialized into a deserted cargo bay. He took a deep breath. So far, things were going as planned. He looked around. The first thing he had to figure out was where they kept the hachid. On one side of the cargo bay, Chakotay saw a console. He approached it and accessed a map of the ship. Crew quarters, mess hall, sickbay, bridge, weapons lockers... he gazed at the locations that appeared in front of him. Finally, he found the storage areas. One was marked HAZARDOUS MATERIALS. That must be it, he thought. He'd have to walk through a good portion of the ship in order to reach it. He hoped that he could do so without being detected.

...

Inspector Kashyk sat in his office, drumming his fingers on his desk. He was still seething from the Janeway incident. He had to give her credit though; she had almost beaten him at his own game. He had not expected her to turn the tables on him like that. Perhaps it was he who had been too trusting. Too trusting of her sense of honor, of her faith in his good nature, of her desire to see the type of man he had portrayed himself to be. It was a good thing he had his own private insurance policy though - neatly transmitted to her body during their kiss in the shuttle bay.

He had spent a great deal of time studying the culture of _Voyager_ in between the inspections he had conducted. He had been impressed by their record. They trusted others; they went out of their way to help species they had never met; they didn't hesitate to put their own people and resources at risk if they encountered a ship or a being in danger. The Devore thrived on suspicion, and the _Voyager_ crew seemed to have no capacity for it. This was what had intrigued Kashyk most of all - and precisely the attribute which he had put to the test. _Voyager_'s crew had complied with every Devore inspection to the letter... while still protecting the Brenari telepaths; putting themselves at risk to protect a people from whom they had nothing to gain.

And Captain Janeway. She was the model of integrity. It had been Kashyk's great pleasure to find an opponent of such intelligence and beauty. He mused over her final words to him; that if he had upheld his end of the bargain, she would have made him part of her crew. At this he laughed aloud; it was not a pleasant sound. He tried to imagine himself as a member of _Voyager_'s selfless, exploratory crew, coexisting with telepaths like Tuvok and Vorik. He couldn't imagine it.

He had considered taking his revenge out on the telepaths, but that was too predictable, and it would have been too hard for him to get close enough to both Tuvok and Vorik to administer the poison. Besides, it was much more fun to show Captain Janeway just how much he really could get away with. It was a pity that she might never know who had poisoned her, but knowing the Voyager crew, they wouldn't rest until they had some sort of explanation... and sooner or later, he knew that explanation would lead back to him.

Whenever he felt embarrassment creeping in over the incident, he pictured Kathryn Janeway lying on a biobed in their sickbay, dying a long, slow, painful death, knowing that every second of her pain had been caused by him and him alone. He enjoyed the knowledge that he had toyed with her emotions. He had never imagined that his seduction attempt would have been so successful. He had not been surprised, in the end, when she had played the game nearly as well as he had. But he had also known that she had not faked the affection she had displayed in the shuttle bay._ Ah well_, he thought. _In the end, she and her crew will be destroyed by their own weakness, and the Devore Imperium will survive._


	3. Chapter 3

Prax walked through the halls of the vessel, on his way to the bridge from his quarters. He wore a sour expression on his face; he was still bent out of shape after the incident on the starship _Voyager_. He understood why Kashyk had saved their reputations by allowing the ship to go. He did not want a blunder of that kind on his permanent record, but he couldn't help but feel that they should have impounded the vessel and punished the criminals once and for all.

As he walked down the hall, something caught his attention. There was a man walking towards him who looked vaguely familiar. Prax slowed his pace and studied the man as he approached. He was Devore, but he didn't look like any member of the crew that Prax knew. At the same time, Prax felt sure that he recognized the face, yet couldn't place it. "Crewman," he barked, as the other man approached.

The man stopped in his tracks. Did he look frightened? Prax wondered. "Sir," the crewman replied. Had he hesitated? Prax wasn't sure.

"State your name and rank," Prax ordered.

"Crewman Teek. I just came aboard at the last station, sir," the man replied.

"You look familiar," said Prax. "Did we serve together in the past?"

"No, sir," said the crewman. "I'm sure I would remember serving with an officer as distinguished as yourself."

The crewman showed the proper deference, and Prax couldn't find any actual fault in his behavior. He stood staring at him for a moment longer, trying to understand why the man looked so familiar, but he couldn't figure it out. "Very well," he said. "Continue on your way."

"Yes, sir," the man replied, and continued walking down the corridor.

It wasn't until about an hour later, as he was sitting on the bridge examining the latest inspection results from a passing ship, that Prax realized why the crewman had looked so familiar.

...

Chakotay began to walk faster after his encounter with Prax. He knew the other man hadn't recognized him immediately, but he had no doubt that, dumb as Prax was, he would eventually realize where he had seen the unknown crewman before. This meant his time was limited.

Chakotay suddenly stopped, realizing he had reached a dead end. "Damn," he swore under his breath. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Surreptitiously, he looked around. No one was in the hallway. He accessed the map of the ship at one of the computer panels on the wall, and saw where he had taken a wrong turn. It wasn't too far back. He began to retrace his steps, the map now firmly imprinted in his mind.

He saw two crewmen coming towards him, and tried not to quicken his step. The men did not seem to look at him, and he passed them with a nod, trying to seem natural. He turned down the corridor which led to the storage bays. He was so close. Finally, he reached the door marked CAUTION: HAZARDOUS MATERIALS. He tried to open the door, but the computer spoke to him, "Security code required for access to storage bay 4 Alpha."

"Damn," he swore softly again, and went to work at trying to hack through the lock on the door. This was one of those times when his experience as a Maquis came in handy. Breaking locks was something he did have a great deal of experience doing. His fingers worked swiftly over the key panel. It was some sort of code; if he could only figure out the necessary algorithm...

Suddenly, he heard voices down the hallway. "Hey, you!" a Devore crewman called. Chakotay looked up briefly. "Step away from that panel," the crewman continued. "It's a director order from Inspector Prax himself."

Prax. He had been discovered. Chakotay didn't look up. He almost had the door open. If he could just get inside the storage bay and lock it behind him, he could buy himself a few more minutes.

"Stop right now, or I'll fire," the Devore voice said.

Chakotay did not stop. He had the code! The door slid open in front of him, and he ducked inside the storage bay, narrowly escaping the beam of light that had just been fired in his direction. He quickly keyed the door shut behind him, and locked it with a Maquis algorithm of his own. He hoped the Devore soldiers were all as stupid as Prax. If they were, he might have enough time to complete his mission and signal Kir.

He squinted, realizing that the storage bay was quite dark. He searched the control panel near the door and found the controls for the illumination, bringing the lights up. He found himself in a large room. The walls were lined with shelves, and more shelves stood in the center of the room. They were tightly packed together, and filled with vegetables, fruits, jars of liquid, containers of gases... Chakotay took a sharp breath, realizing that he was standing in a room full of poisonous materials. In a bin next to him, there were gloves and masks. He put both on and began his search. All he knew about hachid was that it was some sort of organic compound; a plant, they thought.

He quickly realized that the room was extraordinarily well organized. Every compound was labelled and categorized by type of poison or toxin. Each contained a label denoting how it could be administered and what Devore poisons it was typically used in. The poisons were organized by type, and then alphabetically by name.

Chakotay heard yelling and banging outside the door. "Let us in!" the Devore crewman demanded. He ignored them. He had used one of the most complicated Maquis codes; he hoped it would hold.

It did not take Chakotay too long to find the hachid. It appeared to be a root of some kind. It was stored in small bags. Chakotay took two of the bags, placing one in his uniform and dropping the other neatly inside his boot. He reached down to activate the signal for Kir to beam him out, but the instant he had done so, he felt himself begin to dematerialize.

...

"I think we're ready to try the transfusion," the Doctor said. Doctor Jal and Tom Paris were both in sickbay ready to assist him.

"Aye, Doc," Paris replied.

"I am ready," said Doctor Jal.

The Doctor wheeled the transfusion equipment over to the Captain's bedside. They had enough blood of the Captain's type to try a modest transfusion. The Doctor hoped that at the very least, it would buy them some time. All the equipment was ready, and the two doctors, with Paris assisting them, began the procedure.

At first, it seemed to be working. "The fresh blood seems to remain uncontaminated by the poison, Doctor," said Jal.

The Doctor smiled, satisfied, but as the procedure continued, things began to go wrong. Captain Janeway's body began to convulse, as if in a seizure.

"Her breathing is erratic," Paris reported.

Doctor Jal fought to keep the Captain's body still, so as not to interrupt the transfusion. The Doctor scanned her frantically. "What's happening?" Doctor Jal asked.

"The poison seems to be infecting the new blood," said the Doctor, puzzled. He looked at his readout again; he was sure he could not be seeing it right. "And it seems to be infecting it at an even faster rate than before." He didn't understand why this was happening; it defied all of his expectations.

Captain Janeway continued to convulse on the bed. "Her pulse is thready, Doctor," Paris warned.

"We have to stop the transfusion," the Doctor replied urgently. He began to disengage the equipment and stop the procedure. Captain Janeway's convulsions slowed, and Doctor Jal applied a hypospray which brought her body back to its sedative state.

The Doctor looked up at Jal, defeated. "What went wrong?" he asked. "In all of our tests, nothing like this ever happened."

Jal shook her head; she didn't know either. She moved to a console and began to look at what had happened during the procedure. "Something about the fresh blood made the poison even more virulent," she said, "almost like a hungry animal that's starved for fresh meat."

"Yes," said the Doctor, "but why?" Jal raised her head and met the Doctor's glance. She had no answer to his question.

...

Chakotay's transporter signal began to buzz in the shuttle. Kir checked his sensor readings. Chakotay was still aboard the warship. He must have completed his mission. Kir plotted a course past the warships that would give him enough time to pause and pick up the Commander on his way past. Then they would head directly for the wormhole, and be back to the Brenari colony in no time.

Kir had just finished plotting his course when the Devore warships began to move. He barely had time to track their course before they jumped to warp. Kir gritted his teeth; he couldn't follow in open space - his movements would be detected. He would have to wait and meet Chakotay at the rendezvous point. They had found out through Brenari intelligence that the Devore ship had to check in at a station in three days. The station was very close to the wormhole's next location of appearance, and he and Chakotay had figured that even if their shuttle was detected, they would be able to get to the wormhole before they were destroyed by the Devore.

A grimace crossed Kir's features. This meant that Chakotay would have to survive on the Devore ship for the next three days. He could only hope that his friend had not been caught.

...

Chakotay rematerialized in an unfamiliar room but found himself looking at an all too familiar face. "Commander Chakotay," Kashyk said, a tinge of surprise in his voice. "I should have known you wouldn't just continue on your merry way."

"Kashyk," Chakotay spat.

"That's Inspector to you, Commander," Kashyk replied. "A very clever plot. Very clever indeed. Which other member of your crew came to risk their life on your precious captain's behalf?"

Chakotay remained silent. He noticed the two guards flanking him.

"You must have friends around here somewhere," Kashyk said. "Are they hiding in that nebula? Never mind, we're altering course and moving away from it now."

Chakotay continued to say nothing, staring straight ahead.

The Inspector observed him carefully. Whatever he thought of the other man, he knew the commander was not stupid. He began to reason through Chakotay's plan. "You figured out that it was I who poisoned your captain. You enlisted the help of the Brenari..." Kashyk said the word as if it disgusted him. "Who know about our poisons. They told you that what poisoned your Captain was hachid, and your mechanical excuse for a doctor was unable to synthesize an antidote. So, being the selfless hero that you are, you came back to Devore space to get some hachid to save your beloved Captain's life."

Chakotay stood straight. He had experience with interrogation. He did not look at Kashyk or at the guards. He did not move a muscle.

"Search him," Kashyk ordered the guards. They approached him and he did not resist while they roughly poked and prodded him, tearing his jacket and shoving their hands down his pants. One of the guards came up with the small bag of hachid he had hidden in his coat.

"Sir," the guard said, handing the bag to the inspector.

"Well done," Kashyk said with a smile. "Now, throw him in the brig. And get him out of that uniform." He moved close to Chakotay, so that the man could not avoid looking directly in his face. "You don't deserve to wear our uniform," he said.

Without moving another muscle, Chakotay calmly spat in the inspector's face. Kashyk stood and backed away from the Commander, raising his sleeve to wipe the spit off of his face. He looked vaguely amused, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Take him away!" he ordered the guards.

...

"What's for dinner?" Harry asked as he offered Neelix his plate.

"Delta Quadrant spaghetti, Ensign," said Neelix jovially as he heaped Harry's plate with something that looked vaguely like noodles, and topped it off with a red sauce.

"Thanks, Neelix," Kim replied, eyeing the meal dubiously. He took his plate over to join Tom and B'Elanna, who were already eating. "How is it?" he asked as he sat down.

"Not bad," replied Torres.

"Better than leola root stew," said Tom.

Harry picked up his fork and took a bite. It actually did remind him a bit of spaghetti and meatballs. He just wished that whatever Neelix had used for pasta wasn't quite so slimy. "Any report on the Captain?" he asked.

Tom shook his head. "Nothing new since the briefing," he said. They had all been informed this morning of the disastrous consequences of the blood transfusion.

"Chakotay will be successful," said Kim, "I know he will."

"Harry, are you trying to convince us or yourself?" Tom asked.

Harry's eyes dropped to his plate and he shrugged. "A little bit of both, I guess," he said dejectedly.

"Cheer up, Harry," Tom replied, trying to keep the mood light.

"I'm fine. Just worried about the Captain."

"We all are," said B'Elanna. Then, to try and change the subject, she asked, "Have you been down to the Brenari colony?"

"Not yet," Kim replied. "You?"

Paris nodded. "B'Elanna and I went down yesterday. They have some nice facilities, and it's nice to put your feet on real ground for a little while. You should check it out."

"Next time I'm off, I will," Kim replied. The three quieted, lost in their own thoughts. Neelix approached the table.

"How's the spaghetti, folks?" he asked brightly.

"It's... delicious, Neelix," Harry replied, a little too slowly. He realized that he had spoken too slowly and looked up at Neelix guiltily. Torres and Paris, unable to help themselves, burst out laughing, and soon Harry joined them, leaving Neelix standing over their table, looking befuddled.

...

Chakotay sat in his cell. The guards had forced him to take off his clothes and put on some sort of prison uniform. He had held his breath all through the process, but they hadn't taken away his boots. He had to try to find some more secure place to stash the hachid in case they decided to get more suspicious. He had figured out by now that the ship was moving, and that must be the reason that Kir had not beamed him out when he activated the transport beacon. Now the beacon had been taken from him also, and he would have to rely on Kir to make it safely to the rendezvous point. If the other man didn't make it, Chakotay would be stuck in the Delta Quadrant forever, and he would never see _Voyager_ or any of its crew again.

He wondered if he had made the right choice in coming after the hachid alone. To risk the entire crew of _Voyager_ on a mission of this kind had seemed foolish; even to risk one person seemed like too much. He thought of Kathryn and wondered whether she would do the same thing were their positions reversed. He honestly didn't know. He didn't like thinking about it.

His thoughts drifted to the woman lying poisoned in sickbay, and he closed his eyes, remembering the last moment he had spent with her and how he had burned it into his memory. He could still feel the way her limp hand had felt in his. When he thought of that moment, he felt certain that his decision to come here was the right one, no matter what Janeway would have done in his position.

...

"Prax, what do you think we should do with him?" Kashyk asked, purely for his own amusement. He didn't intend to follow the other man's advice; he knew that his own intellect was far superior to Prax's.

"Take him to the nearest detention colony," Prax responded without hesitation.

"Oh, Prax," the inspector said with a laugh, "you're so predictable."

"Yes, sir," Prax responded. Kashyk glanced up at him contemptuously. The man actually seemed to be offended by this remark.

"No," said Kashyk, "I have something far more special in mind for our guest. I think we should make an example of him for all the other species that attempt to defy us. We're going to convert him."

"Sir?" Prax asked.

"You'll see what I mean, Prax," Kashyk replied, his grin spreading wider with each passing moment. He pressed the intercom system. "Guards," he ordered, "bring the prisoner to my office."

A few moments later, two prison guards entered Kashyk's office with Chakotay between them. The Inspector stood and walked around Chakotay, surveying him from a safe distance. "Ah, Commander," he said, "that yellow prison uniform is really much more becoming on you than a Devore soldier's uniform. Tell me, how do you like it?"

Chakotay stood still, his eyes straight ahead, and said nothing.

"Oh, so we're going to play that game, are we?" Kashyk replied lazily, returning to his chair and putting his feet up on his desk. "Well, I'm a pro at that game. The longer you don't want to talk, the more danger your Captain will be in," Kashyk said.

Chakotay's eyes slowly moved to Kashyk's face. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

Kashyk smiled triumphantly. "That's better. I mean that I hold Captain Janeway's life in my hands. I have the power to remotely accelerate the poison in her system. One tap of my finger could kill her instantly." Kashyk held up a device that Chakotay had never seen before, and pointed to one of its controls.

Chakotay regarded the Inspector wearily. "You're bluffing," he said.

"Am I?" Kashyk asked. "I guess you'll never know. As far as you know, Captain Janeway might already be dead."

"I guess I'll have to take that chance," said Chakotay.

"Really?" Kashyk asked. "Commander, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you valued her life above your own; that she was the one who gave you peace." The Inspector spoke mockingly. Chakotay's eyes narrowed; where had he heard that information? "Oh yes," Kashyk continued, "Kathryn and I were very close."

Chakotay did not like the way the other man had said his Captain's name, and he didn't believe a thing that he was hearing. "Captain Janeway never would have revealed personal information about any of her crew to you," he said. "You could have read my personal logs during any of your inspections."

Kashyk inclined his head. "Round one, to Chakotay," he said, feigning respect. "But your Captain's life is still in my hands. Literally."

"I think that you're bluffing," said Chakotay. "I think this is all some elaborate deception. The Doctor found no evidence of any sort of device implanted in the Captain. You would have had to implant her with a device in order for you to be able to activate anything."

"You're wrong, Commander. The poison I used on Captain Janeway contains a metal that is almost undetectable to all but Devore sensors. If I press this button, that metal will coagulate in Captain Janeway's blood stream, and she will die instantly."

"All right, Inspector," Chakotay said, trying to maintain his calm demeanor as a hot anger rose inside of him, "let's just say you're telling me the truth. What do you want from me?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Kashyk replied with a sardonic grin. "News of the incident with _Voyager_ has travelled fast through our space. Even though we haven't made any official reports, the rumors are rampant. Smuggling of telepaths has increased drastically over the past two weeks, and we're having a hard time keeping up with all the criminals. Apparently, the rumor that we let _Voyager_ escape has made our enemies bold. That's where you come in. You're going to prove to the rest of this quadrant that we did capture _Voyager_. You're going to apologize publicly for the fact that you tried to smuggle telepaths through our space. You're going to tell everyone that you're sorry you did it, and that you realize the error of your ways."

"And if I engage in this... charade?" Chakotay asked.

"Then you'll be free to go," Kashyk replied easily. "Not only will I allow you to go in peace, but I will also give you this." Kashyk held up a small vial of blue liquid.

"What's that?" Chakotay asked.

Kashyk smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. "Why, it's the antidote to Captain Janeway's poison, of course."

Chakotay lunged forward to grab the vial from Kashyk. It was an instinctive response, and he regretted it an instant later. Kashyk's guards grabbed him roughly and shoved him to the ground. One of them took out a small club and hit him hard across the face. He wound up on the floor, one hand over his bleeding nose.

"Now, now, Commander," Kashyk said patronizingly, "there's no need to play rough." Then his tone became brusque. "Take him back to the brig." Chakotay felt himself being roughly forced to stand. He continued to hold one hand over his nose and tried to tilt his head back to slow the bleeding. One of the guards whacked him across the back of the head, forcing him to keep his head down. "Think over my proposal, Commander," said Kashyk. "We'll discuss it again tomorrow."

Somehow, Chakotay did not think he would like Kashyk's method of discussing anything. He felt himself roughly prodded out the door of the Inspector's office, and returned to his cell. He tore a small piece off the shirt of his uniform and held it over his still bleeding nose, then lay back on the hard slab that substituted for a bed and began to think about Kashyk's offer.

...

"Report, Doctor," said Tuvok. He had assembled the senior staff in the briefing room. The Doctor appeared on the view screen.

"I'm afraid I don't have any good news," the Doctor replied. "We've been able to slow the course of the poison once again, so it's operating almost at its original rate, but the Captain still has only a few days to live at best. We're running out of options."

"There must be something else you can do, Doc," Paris interjected.

"I'm afraid at the moment, we are running out of theories," the Doctor replied. "Doctor Jal and I have been working around the clock and have made very little progress. I'm afraid that without the sample of hachid from Commander Chakotay, the Captain will die."

"Thank you for your report, Doctor," said Tuvok. He turned to address the table of senior officers. "As you all know, Commander Chakotay has ordered us to proceed to the Alpha Quadrant if he has not returned in four days."

"You're not going to follow those orders, are you Lieutenant?" asked Harry.

Tuvok looked directly at Kim and replied, "I am. If Commander Chakotay does not return, we will have to assume that he has been captured, and most likely killed, by the Devore. It would not be logical to put an entire ship at risk to save one person, and I do not believe the Commander would wish for us to do this."

"Tuvok, we've been through this before," said Tom Paris. "Remember when the Captain and Chakotay contracted that virus and we contacted the Vidiians in spite of their orders?"

"That incident has not escaped my memory, Mr. Paris. However, in that situation, we knew that both the Captain and the Commander remained alive, and had good reason to believe that the Vidiians would have a cure to their disease. In this case, we have no assurance that Commander Chakotay is alive, and Voyager is not capable of taking on the entire Devore Imperium alone."

"What about the Brenari?" asked B'Elanna. "They've helped us until now."

"The Brenari are not a war-like culture," Tuvok replied. "Their ships are not equipped with advanced weapons. They would be of little use to us in a firefight."

"What if we could come up with a plan to save Chakotay without putting Voyager at risk?" asked Harry. "Would you consider it?"

"Mr. Kim," Tuvok replied, "if you can come up with such a plan, I will be open to hearing it."

Kim nodded. "Thank you, sir." Tom could see Harry's brain already beginning to work. He wondered what his friend had in mind.

"Is there any other pertinent business?" Tuvok asked.

"Just one think, Mr. Vulcan," said Neelix.

"Yes, Mr. Neelix."

"The Brenari colony has a wide variety of edible plants and vegetables. I took the liberty of asking Doctor Jal if she thought I would be allowed to collect some. She spoke to the appropriate authorities, and they told her that I could. With your permission, I'd like to beam down to the surface and collect some samples to replenish our food supplies."

"Permission granted. You may take Seven of Nine with you to the surface."

"Thank you very much, sir," said Neelix.

Tuvok surveyed the meeting room one more time. No one seemed to have anything to add. "Dismissed," he said.

...

Inspector Kashyk sat in his office, waiting for the prisoner to be brought to him again. He quite enjoyed the act of breaking another's will, of forcing another being to conform to his standards. It was the manipulation that was the most fun. Chakotay would never know whether he had the power to kill Janeway at the touch of a button. He would never know if the vial of blue liquid contained an actual antidote to the poison. That was the fun of it: to play games with the other man's mind. Speaking of which, where was his prisoner? "Prax!" he shouted into the communications system. "Where are the guards with my prisoner?"

"They're on their way, sir," Prax said, from his place manning the bridge.

"Tell them to hurry. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Yes, sir."

Kashyk drummed his fingers on the desk in impatience. He wondered what Chakotay's response to his offer would be. Even if Voyager's Commander didn't take the bait, Kashyk didn't stand to lose much. The rumors would dissipate eventually. His power wasn't really threatened. In a few weeks, everything would return to normal. But, if the Commander did take the offer, Kashyk's advantage in the Devore Imperium would suddenly increase tenfold. He smiled to himself. This was the kind of gambit he enjoyed; where he had nothing to lose, and his opponent could lose everything.

He heard the chime to his door at that moment, and he barked, "Come in!" Two guards entered, each holding one of Chakotay's arms. _Voyager_'s first officer looked significantly worse off than he had the day before. It looked like the blow to the face he had received had broken his nose. His face was bruised and covered in dried blood, and his nose looked a bit out of joint. That would have to be fixed before he was recorded for any kind of broadcast. No matter, it wouldn't be hard to do.

"Commander Chakotay," Kashyk said pleasantly, "how are you today?"

"None of your business," Chakotay spat.

Kashyk remembered that he had read something in Voyager's files about Chakotay being a former member of some criminal organization. Apparently, he still remembered how to act that way. "Have you had a chance to consider my offer?" Kashyk asked smoothly.

Chakotay nodded, looking the Inspector straight in the eye. "I have," he said. "I still think you're bluffing, Kashyk. I don't think you really have the power to kill Captain Janeway at the touch of a button. I don't trust you when you tell me that vial contains an antidote."

Kashyk sighed, moving to signal the nearest detention transport. He wouldn't be having as much fun as he had hoped. He stopped abruptly when Chakotay started to speak again.

"But I could be wrong about that, and that's not a chance I'm willing to take."

Kashyk's smile slowly grew; the other man had sounded defeated. "Ah, the noble first officer," he said patronizingly. "Willing to sacrifice his dignity to save his Captain. Your sacrifice will be appreciated, Commander, by all."

"I'll need time to prepare," Chakotay said. "I'll have to put together a convincing speech if you want it to mean anything to your enemies."

"How much time?" Kashyk asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I can be ready tomorrow," Chakotay replied.

"We'll take care of your nose," the Inspector said. "We can't have you appearing in public like that."

"I'd appreciate that."

"But we'll wait till tomorrow," Kashyk added. "Just in case you have some sort of plan

up your sleeve. I still don't recall seeing the shuttle you came in on."

Chakotay looked at the Inspector, stone-faced. He did not intend to reveal anything about that.

Kashyk observed the other man's face and chuckled lightheartedly. "I've got to give you a little credit, Commander," he said. "I've got to give you a little credit." Then, with a wave of his hand, Chakotay was dismissed and sent back to his cell. The Inspector looked at the door for a long time after he had gone. He didn't believe that the Commander had honestly capitulated for one second, unless the other man hoped to gain something from it too. He had to be prepared for all eventualities.

...

Kir checked the ship's chronometer and all the ship's systems one last time. He had been hiding in the nebula for just over two days, and he had to leave immediately if he was going to meet Chakotay on time. He could only hope that the Commander had accomplished his mission, and that he was still alive on board the Devore warship. He set a course for the rendezvous coordinates and engaged.


	4. Chapter 4

The Devore warship had docked at the space station an hour before. Chakotay sat in his cell, waiting for the guards to come and escort him to Inspector Kashyk's office to make his "statement." His hatred for Kashyk had only grown over the past three days. He'd been fairly indifferent to the man when he'd first arrived, thinking that the Inspector was just doing his job, trying to protect his people. But the more time he'd spent with the Inspector, the more he'd seen that Kashyk was manipulative and evil. The Devore enjoyed toying with other's emotions and with their lives. Chakotay was sure that this was all a test to see how far he could be manipulated. Well, Kashyk would see the answer to that question soon enough.

Chakotay moved his toes in his boot, assuring himself that the priceless bag of hachid still remained there. It did, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Although he had no idea if the vial in Kashyk's possession contained an actual antidote, he had determined to at least attempt to get his hands on it before leaving the warship. He had also determined that nothing would stop him, even if it meant he had to kill Kashyk in the process. He felt a slow anger burning within him, fueled by the knowledge that the Inspector had betrayed him, his crew, and, especially, his Captain.

The familiar sounds of two guards' footsteps approached. Chakotay stood and steeled himself for what lay ahead. The guards, who took every opportunity to be rough with him, grabbed him from his cell and escorted him to Kashyk's office. He noticed another Devore sitting in the office whom he did not recognize.

"Good afternoon, Commander Chakotay," Kashyk said pleasantly. "This is our doctor." He gestured to the unfamiliar Devore. "He's here to fix your nose before you make your statement."

"I don't want any of your people to touch me," Chakotay said firmly. "I"ll make my statement just as I am."

"Ah, but Commander," Kashyk said smoothly, "we can't have people think that you're only talking because we forced you to."

"But isn't that the reality?" Chakotay asked. "You've imprisoned me against my will. Your guards inflicted these injuries on me. And now you want me to make a statement denying all of these things?"

The look in Kashyk's eyes became dangerous. He waved to the doctor and the two guards. "Leave us," he said.

"But sir," one of the guards began to object.

"Leave us!" Kashyk ordered sharply.

Inwardly, Chakotay breathed a sigh of relief. He had counted on Kashyk's pride; on his desire not to be humiliated in front of anyone, and his desire for his triumph to be completely his own. Chakotay was relieved to know that he had not miscalculated.

Once they were alone, Kashyk produced a weapon from somewhere under his desk, and pointed it squarely at Chakotay. "Now that we're alone, Commander, we can dispense with the pleasantries. You must have something up your sleeve. What is it? Has Voyager found a way to escape our sensors? Is your ship lurking out there, waiting for some kind of signal?" Chakotay said nothing, standing straight, his eyes ahead of him; he saw that the Inspector's control was slipping. Kashyk stood and began to circle him, always keeping the weapon trained on Chakotay's body. "Or is it something smaller?" he wondered aloud. "Have you stashed another packet of hachid away somewhere?" With this idea, Kashyk began to roughly search Chakotay's clothes and body.

Taking advantage of the other man's momentary distraction, Chakotay struck. He knocked the weapon out of Kashyk's hand, sending it spinning out of control across the room, and elbowed the Inspector in the gut. Chakotay had the element of surprise on his side, but Kashyk quickly understood what was happening. He brought up his arm and punched Chakotay hard in the face. Chakotay retaliated with a punch of his own. Kashyk stumbled backwards, surprised by how much strength his opponent could exert.

Kashyk's careening had left him standing right next to his desk, and he picked up the device which activated Captain Janeway's poison as well as the vial of blue antidote. He held them up to Chakotay's face tantalizingly. "It's your choice, Commander," Kashyk said with a cruel edge to his voice. "You can kill your Captain right now, or you can save her."

"If she dies, it's going to be _you_ who killed her!" Chakotay yelled, lunging for Kashyk, attempting to grab the vial of blue liquid out of his hand.

But Kashyk was too quick for him this time. He stepped out of the way, causing Chakotay to stumble. Kashyk stood, gloating, as he dropped the vial to the floor, allowing it to shatter at Chakotay's feet. Then, he pressed the button on the device set to activate Captain Janeway's poison. He was laughing... but not for long.

Chakotay, having regained his footing, lunged at the Inspector once more. This time, the Devore was not prepared at all, too busy reveling in his victory. Suddenly, Chakotay's hands were around the Inspector's throat, and Kashyk found himself pressed up against the wall of his office, gasping for breath.

Chakotay's rage, which had been so quietly controlled for the past three days, was boiling over. He did not think about his hands on Kashyk's throat, or about the fact that he was choking the life out of another living creature. He did not realize that he was speaking aloud. "How many innocent lives have you taken? How many telepaths have you committed to your death camps? How many women? How many children? What gives you the right to come into others' lives and manipulate them into serving your purpose?"

Kashyk could not reply. His face was turning blue and his eyes were bulging. Chakotay heard the sound of the door opening behind them. The guards must have heard the fight and come to investigate. He steeled himself for the fatal shot that he knew was coming, but at least he would take Kashyk with him. His last thought was of Kathryn, a stab of regret that he had not been able to complete his mission and bring the substance she so desperately needed. As Chakotay stood, ready to take the weapon's fire and meet his death, he closed his eyes, and felt a familiar tingle.

...

Chakotay opened his eyes, shocked to find himself very much alive and standing behind Kir on the Devore shuttle. "Kir!" he exclaimed.

"Commander," the older man greeted him with a smile. "Have a seat. We have to get out of here fast."

"I thought I was dead for sure," Chakotay said, sitting down at the controls beside Kir, still breathing hard after his fight with Kashyk.

"Not yet," Kir replied, looking over at Chakotay, a slight smile on his lips. "Did you get the hachid?"

"I got it," Chakotay affirmed.

"Then let's get out of here," said Kir. He was swiftly plotting a course for the wormhole. It was only a few minutes away. "Prepare to fire torpedoes," Kir ordered.

Chakotay readied the launch sequence. "Ready," he said.

At that moment, they felt the shuttle lurch forward. They both knew that feeling. They had been hit. "It's the station," Kir said. "That's who fired on us. Try to keep them occupied for a few minutes."

"Aye aye," Chakotay responded. He hailed the station on audio only. "Devore station, this is a Devore shuttle. Why are you firing on us?"

"This is Inspector Rayfek," a voice replied. "We have been informed by the crew of the Devore warship that your shuttle has been stolen."

"Negative," Chakotay answered, trying to make his voice sound appropriately casual and concerned at the same time. "We have been having some trouble with our shuttle's systems. We're off of our designated course."

The voice on the other end hesitated for a moment. "Dock at the station immediately," Inspector Rayfek said. "We will assist you in your repairs."

"We can't do that right now," said Chakotay, knowing he wasn't going to be able to buy them much more time. "Our docking clamps are out of order."

"Devore shuttle, dock at the space station immediately or we will open fire," the Inspector's voice returned.

Chakotay shut off the channel. "Was that enough time?" he asked. Another blast rocked the shuttle.

"Fire the torpedoes," Kir replied. They were close enough to the wormhole to open it.

Chakotay fired the torpedoes and glanced at the view screen. The Devore warship was attempting to disengage from the station. "They're going to try to follow us in," Chakotay said urgently.

"I don't think they'll be fast enough," Kir replied. "The wormhole will close right behind us."

Another blast rocked the shuttle. "Inertial dampers are offline," Chakotay said. "The starboard engine is failing."

"We'll get through," replied Kir, remaining calm. The wormhole had opened up in front of them. Chakotay glanced nervously at the view screen again. The Devore warship had just begun to disengage from the station. Kir was right, it would be too slow to follow them in. Kir piloted the shuttle into the wormhole and in seconds, they found themselves on the other side.

Chakotay and Kir shared a triumphant glance until a light began to flash on the console in front of them. "We're losing life support," Chakotay said.

Kir was examining the readouts before him. "It's worse than that," he said. "We're losing containment. This shuttle is going to blow itself to pieces in less than five minutes."

...

"Lieutenant Tuvok!" Harry exclaimed. "A Devore shuttle just exited the wormhole."

"Life signs?" Tuvok asked

"Two," replied Harry. "One Brenari and one human."

"Set a course, Mr. Paris," Tuvok ordered.

"They're hailing us," Kim said.

"On screen."

A battered Chakotay and Kir appeared on the view screen. "Chakotay to _Voyager_," the Commander said.

"_Voyager_ here," said Tuvok.

"This ship is about to blow. Can you beam us over right away?"

Tuvok glanced back at Ensign Kim. "Are we in transporter range?" he asked.

"Not yet, Lieutenant," Kim replied anxiously. "Just a few more seconds."

"As soon as we are in transporter range, lock on to the Commander and Mr. Kir, and beam them aboard."

"Aye aye, sir," Kim replied.

The concerned expression on Chakotay's face grew. He was looking at the readouts. The bridge crew of Voyager could hear a computer's voice in the background saying, "Total loss of containment in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..."

As Tuvok and Tom Paris watched the shuttle explode before their eyes, Harry exclaimed triumphantly, "I've got them!"

Tuvok turned around and, raising one eyebrow, said, "Excellent work, Ensign."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, beaming.

"Chakotay to Ensign Kim," he heard over the comm.

"Kim here."

"Good work, Ensign. Next time, try not to cut it so close."

"Yes, sir."

...

When Chakotay arrived in sickbay, he found the Doctor and Doctor Jal huddled over a console. The Doctor whirled around as soon as Chakotay entered sickbay.

"I'm not too late, am I?" Chakotay asked worriedly.

"No, Commander," the Doctor replied. "Not quite."

Chakotay bent over and removed his boot, reaching inside of it and handing a small bag to the Doctor. "Hachid," he said.

"Commander," the Doctor said, concerned, "you're injured. You need treatment."

Chakotay shook his head. "I'll be fine," he said. "Take care of the Captain first." He moved to exit sickbay.

"Just a minute, Commander. You're not going anywhere looking like that," said the Doctor in his most unyielding tone. "Have a seat. Mr. Paris will be here to treat you in no time."

Chakotay sat down quietly on one of the beds while the Doctor summoned Tom. While the Doctor and Doctor Jal analyzed the hachid, Paris treated Chakotay's broken nose and the other cuts and bruises he had sustained during his fight with Kashyk.

"What happened to you?" Tom asked.

"Let's just say that the Devore were less than friendly when they found out that I was aboard," Chakotay replied.

A few minutes later, Tom said, "You're all set, Commander. Good as new."

"Thanks, Tom," Chakotay replied. Then he turned to the Doctor. "Report to me as soon as you have any news, Doctor," he ordered.

"I will, Commander."

With that, Chakotay turned and left sickbay. His first order of business was to get out of these Devore prison clothes.

...

"Doctor to Commander Chakotay. Doctor to Commander Chakotay." Chakotay started awake. He hadn't intended to doze off. He realized that he was sitting in a chair in his quarters. He had sat down to review the logs from the past few days, and he must have fallen asleep. He hadn't slept for the three days he had been captive on the Devore ship.

"Chakotay here," he said groggily.

"Please report to sickbay at once."

This got his attention, immediately sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through his body. He jumped to his feet and replied, "On my way."

When he reached sickbay, the Doctor and Doctor Jal were standing near the Captain. The Doctor had a hypospray in his hand. "Report," Chakotay said.

"With the sample of hachid you brought us, Doctor Jal and I have been able to synthesize an antidote to the poison," the Doctor said. "I'm ready to administer it now. I thought you'd like to be here."

"Thank you, Doctor," Chakotay said, looking up at the EMH with a smile.

"The antidote will not suppress all the effects of the poison immediately," the Doctor explained. "It will take time for the Captain to regain all of her motor functions. Up to several hours. She may be disoriented at first, and she may have even suffered memory loss. We don't know if there will be any long term effects."

"Understood," Chakotay replied.

The Doctor pressed the hypospray to the Captain's neck and then began to run his tricorder over her. Doctor Jal was standing at a nearby console, keeping track of the results. "Her pulse is quickening," Jal said. "Blood pressure is returning to normal."

"Brain activity is increasing," the Doctor said.

"Motor functions are still limited," said Doctor Jal.

Chakotay stood at the Captain's bedside, trying to keep out of the Doctor's way. Her eyes began to flutter. "I think she's coming out of it, Doctor," Chakotay said, the relief evident in his tone.

Kathryn Janeway struggled to open her eyes. When she finally did, she was met with a very concerned expression on the face of her first officer. "Chakotay," she said quietly. "What happened?"

He smiled down at her and brought one hand up to brush her hair back. His other hand found hers, and he gripped it tightly, although he could feel no response from her. He reminded himself that the Doctor had said it might take her a while to regain her motor functions. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"We were drinking coffee in my ready room," she said. "It tasted strange."

Chakotay nodded. "You were poisoned," he said.

"Poisoned?" she replied, outraged. "By whom?" She tried to hoist herself up on her elbows, and an expression of terror overcame her face. "Chakotay," she whispered, "I can't move."

She saw the Doctor's face over her. "Your motor functions will return in time, Captain. You've been unconscious for nearly a week, and it will take several hours for the antidote to be fully effective."

"A week?" she asked softly.

"Yes," the Doctor said, "and if it weren't for Commander Chakotay here, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

She gave him a quizzical look, but he said nothing. His eyes told her: I'll explain later. "Captain, I'm not the only one who contributed to your recovery," he said. He motioned to someone standing by the medical console, and a tall, red-headed Brenari woman came over. "This is Doctor Jal," Chakotay said. "She and the Doctor developed the antidote together. We also owe quite a lot to Kir."

Another quizzical glance, but this one only lasted for a moment. Janeway focused her attention on the tall Brenari woman. At least she had control of her eyes and her voice. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome, Captain," Jal said in her melodious voice. "Although it is I who should thank your crew. Without Commander Chakotay's heroic efforts, we would not have this powerful antidote to many Devore poisons."

Janeway raised her eyebrows. "One of these days, I'll have to hear all the details of Commander Chakotay's heroic efforts," she said.

"I'll fill you in, Captain," her first officer replied with a grin.

"Commander," the Doctor interrupted, "the Captain needs to rest. Visiting hours are over."

Chakotay nodded. "All right, Doc," he said. Then he turned back to Kathryn and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, where he knew she could feel it. "I'll be back," he said softly.

She nodded. She could feel herself drifting off again, but this time, it was into a deep, healing sleep.

...

Janeway stood at the door to Chakotay's quarters. Life on _Voyager_ had returned to a relative calm. They had thanked their Brenari colleagues and bid them farewell, resuming their course for the Alpha Quadrant. They had given the Brenari a large supply of the antidote for hachid as part of their gratitude for the assistance of Kir and Doctor Jal. Janeway wished that they could have spent more time on the Brenari colony, but they had been delayed enough already so had set out on their way once again. Still, Janeway could not deny that meeting the Brenari had been a much needed breath of fresh air. She thought back to her conversation with Chakotay about how they encountered too few friendly races. Perhaps she had been overlooking things that were right in front of her eyes. Her thought of that conversation returned her to the present moment, and she buzzed the Commander's door chime. He had agreed to tell her how he obtained the hachid on one condition: that she join him for dinner tonight.

"Come in," she heard. She entered Chakotay's quarters and was surprised to find the lights dimmed and soft jazz playing in the background. She eyed her surroundings dubiously.

"How are you feeling, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

"Thankfully, all my motor functions have returned to normal!" she replied with a smile. "The Doctor gave me a clean bill of health today and told I can return to my normal duty schedule."

"I'm glad to hear it," her first officer replied. He gestured to a chair. "Have a seat."

She followed his instructions and asked, "What's for dinner?"

"It's a green curry," he said, "made with coconut milk, vegetables and tofu." He brought a large bowl of curry to the table, and a bowl of brown rice.

"Do I have to use chopsticks?" she cajoled.

"Not at all," he said. "If you'll notice there are forks on the table."

She chuckled, and then turned to the food. "Chakotay, this looks delicious," she said. She always enjoyed his cooking. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble," she said.

"I didn't have to," he acknowledged. They shared a smile, as he sat across from her. "Wine?" he offered. "It's a viognier."

"Don't mind if I do."

They began their meal and the food was just as delicious as it looked and smelled. Janeway cut right to the chase. "All right, Commander, I think it's about time you told me what happened while I spent a week lying unconscious in sickbay."

"I don't know if you're going to like it," he warned.

"Well, I guess I'll have to throw you in the brig for the rest of the trip, then," she joked.

He grinned at her and shook his head. "When Doctor Jal and the Doctor figured out that the essential ingredient of the poison was one that could only be found in Devore space, I decided to go back and get some."

"That's the part I'm not going to like," she said, putting down her fork and resting her chin in her hands.

"Yes," he said. "Well, there's more that you're not going to like, but the rest won't be my fault." She nodded for him to continue. "Kir agreed to accompany me. The Brenari had an old Devore shuttle that they had stolen, so we used it to avoid detection. Kir beamed me over to Kashyk's warship, and I managed to find the hachid. I ran into Prax in a corridor, and he recognized me. I spent three days in their brig before we reached the rendezvous point that Kir and I had set." He could tell that she was digesting his words, and he continued, "This is the part you won't believe. Kashyk offered me a deal."

She raised her eyebrows. "What kind of deal?"

"He told me that he would let me go and give me an antidote to the poison if I would make some sort of public statement for him."

"What kind of public statement?"

"He wanted me to say that I had realized the error of my ways, that Voyager hadn't escaped, but had been reformed, and that we now saw that telepaths were in fact dangerous creatures."

Kathryn shook her head; she couldn't believe the audacity of the Inspector. She could tell that Chakotay was holding something back from her. "There's something else, isn't there?"

"He told me that he had a device that could accelerate the poison, and that he could kill you instantly with the touch of a button."

Janeway pondered that for a moment. "Did he?" she asked.

Chakotay shook his head. "He had a device, but the whole thing was a bluff. I saw him press the button right before Kir rescued me. I tried to get the antidote from him, but I suspect that was a ruse too."

Janeway nodded slowly. She had been betrayed to a greater extent than she had thought possible. No, she had never completely trusted Kashyk. But she had trusted him enough. Enough to offer him a permanent home on _Voyager_. _What a judge of character_, she thought to herself. _Ha!_

"Chakotay to Kathryn," he said quietly, tilting his head to one side and inching his fingers across the table to brush hers. "Chakotay to Kathryn."

She realized that she had been staring off into space, absorbed in her own thoughts. "I'm sorry, Chakotay," she said.

"Where were you just now?"

She shook her head, and her voice took on a tone of self-reproach. "Just thinking how Kashyk pulled the wool over my eyes."

"We all wanted to believe him, Kathryn," Chakotay said softly. "Don't blame yourself."

She gave him a wry smile. "Oh, but didn't you know that's one of my greatest talents?"

Chakotay looked back at her with mock reproach. "Everything worked out fine. _Voyager_ didn't suffer any permanent damage. We're all alive and well."

"Thanks to you," she replied quietly.

"Don't blame yourself, Kathryn. You don't need any more guilt on your conscience."

She nodded. "I suppose not."

His tone softened again, and he said, "Everyone gets carried away once in a while."

She looked up at Chakotay, her eyes boring deep into his. Slowly, she smiled, and he smiled back. She nodded and said, "Thank you, Chakotay."

"Any time."

They turned back to their meal and allowed their conversation to turn to other matters: vegetarian recipes, B'Elanna's constant sparring with Seven of Nine, holodeck programs... They stayed in Chakotay's quarters talking late into the night. When Kathryn finally said goodnight and returned to her quarters, she found that a thought from earlier in the evening had come back to revisit her. Perhaps she had been blind to more than one thing that was right in front of her.


End file.
